Category Archives: Comedy

Every Good Boy Deserves Favour – February 2009

6/10

By Tom Stoppard and Andre Previn

Directed by Felix Barrett and Tom Morris

Venue: Olivier Theatre

Date: Friday 13th February 2009

Actually, much of this short play with orchestra merited an 8/10 rating, but then there was the overlong dance interlude, and being dance illiterate I found it dull and pointless. Otherwise, this was an interesting and entertaining look at the Soviet Union’s treatment of dissidents in the 1970s (and even now according to the program notes) through the experience of one man, who had spoken out against the state hospitalizing sane people. This is coupled with another man’s experience of an imaginary orchestra (in which he plays the triangle). Neither man can be released until he denies that which he knows to be true. The dissident is prepared to die for his truth, going on hunger strike and refusing to surrender even when his son pleads for him to say what they want to hear. The triangle player is also quite willing to state that he hears no orchestra, provided the doctor can get them to stop playing! The impasse is resolved by the gaudily uniformed KGB Colonel, sorry, doctor, marching into their cell, sorry, ward, and asking some simple straightforward questions. He asks Alexander Ivanov if he thinks a Soviet doctor would ever commit a sane man to a lunatic asylum, to which the triangle player responds ‘no’. The Colonel/doctor then asks Alexander Ivanov if he hears an orchestra, to which the dissident replies ‘no’. The Colonel/doctor decrees that both men are fit to be released. So, when the Colonel/doctor put two men with identical names in the same room, was he being extremely stupid, or was this a shrewd manoeuvre to get two ‘patients’ off his books? As Steve said, it looked like the first, but was actually the second.

The layout for this performance (I can’t really call it a set) was probably less complicated than it looked. On the revolve sat the orchestra, violins to the left at the start as usual. They wrapped around the conductor’s podium, which was in the centre of the revolve, but there was room at the front for two hospital beds, one occupied by the triangle player (Toby Jones). A light coloured wooden path led from the back wall, in a zigzag pattern, to the side of the beds, and along this path comes the dissident (Joseph Millson). There’s a school desk off to the right, forward of the revolve, and as the revolve turns during the performance, we see another desk, the doctor’s, snuggled in amongst the musicians. There are numerous banks of lights high up around the back wall, and a couple of double bass players are off to the right, also outside the revolve.

The orchestra, after the usual tuning up rituals, began to play silently as Toby rose from his bed, took out his triangle and little metal stick (what do they call those things, anyway?) and listened to the music, waiting for his cue. Gradually, the sound came in, and it was lovely music; in a modern style, with some slight dissonance giving it a bit of an edge but without scaring the horses. The triangle player had to stop them at one point, and told them to restart from the tympani bit, which they did. He strikes the final note on his triangle, and turns around to find a new person is in the room. The dissident has been quiet all this while, trying to figure out which of the two rumpled beds is meant to be his, and eventually plumping for the one Toby’s just left. Triangle player is keen to know what instrument the dissident plays, and isn’t put off by his total lack of experience with any musical instrument. He interrogates him avidly, in between complaining about the standard of the orchestra, and it’s a very funny scene, with lots of clever word play.

From here we get a mixture of music and dialogue, with the dissident explaining in a couple of speeches how he got arrested, and what he’s experienced in prison and hospital, which is what the authorities want to stop him talking about. We also see his son having difficulties in school because he doesn’t conform – his teacher tells him off because he played more notes on his triangle than were in the score – and find out that the doctor is also a part-time violinist in his own orchestra, which all adds to the fun. Then there’s the dance bit, with what looks like various members of the orchestra standing up and dancing a version of kicking the crap out of each other. It may have been good dancing, but it didn’t tell me anything about either Ivanov’s story, or the orchestra experience, so I can only assume it was inserted as some sort of special offer – you get the band, the dancers come for free.

There wasn’t much more after the dance, just the Colonel’s magnificent cure technique and the son finding his father, and then we were done. The orchestra had been leaving their seats gradually during this last bit, so I assume the music was pre-recorded, as I don’t see how they could have kept it going so strongly otherwise, but I’d be happy to learn differently.

And so we return home, reasonably happy with our evening, and hoping the signal failure at Haywards Heath won’t make us too late back. [12:30 a.m.!!! @*&%$£@!!!]

© 2009 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

Tons Of Money – February 2009

6/10

Adapted by Alan Ayckbourn from a comedy by Will Evans and Valentine

Directed by Joe Harmston

Venue: Yvonne Arnaud Theatre

Date: Thursday 12th February 2009

Set: standard 20s/30s style living room of the well-to-do. Double doors on the left, fireplace to the right, French windows centre back, with a bit of garden terrace. Sofa centre left, and other chairs and tables round the place or brought on as required.

The set may have been well-to-do, but the couple living in the house certainly weren’t. Aubrey and Louise lived on credit, and had run up so many debts that the husband was due to be declared bankrupt in a week. Into this situation comes a solicitor with news of Aubrey’s brother’s death, and the information that said brother had left him a life interest in his estate, while the capital reverts to a cousin, George Maitland, on Aubrey’s death. It doesn’t take long for the impecunious couple to realise that the life interest, although amounting to several thousands of pounds a year, would soon be gobbled up by the many creditors they’d accrued. Cue a remark or two about the criminality of lending people money and encouraging them to get into debt – I would have thought more people would have laughed. Anyway, the wife is soon hatching a plot for Aubrey to die, then reappear as cousin George, who is believed to have died many years ago in Mexico, though proof has never been forthcoming. All you need to know now is that the butler, Sprules, has overheard part of this plot and snaffles a copy of the will, and that an old school chum of Louise’s, Jean, is due for a visit, at which point she confides that she was also married, briefly, to a man who died out in South America somewhere, and the next two acts pretty much write themselves.

First off, Aubrey reappears disguised as cousin George. Sprules believes this to be his brother Henery, whom he has inveigled to play the part of the missing cousin so they can get the money, and a lot of the humour in these later acts was down to Sprules and his intended, the maid, attempting to communicate with “Henery” using the agreed signals – stroking the elbow, tugging the ear, tapping the nose, and, if all else fails, dropping something, like a tray. There was a lovely scene where Sprules, hidden behind one of the double doors, throws a series of larger and larger trays through the other door in a desperate attempt to alert his brother to danger. Later, when he believes Henery is dead, he’s so caught up in his grief that he completely ignores the real Henery’s signals. It was great fun, and Sprules was beautifully played by Christopher Timothy.

However, neither Henery nor anyone else is dead yet. Once Louise discovers that Jean is married to cousin George, and that Aubrey seems all too ready to get cracking on the honeymoon, she has to think of some other solution to the problem. The solicitor (I assume he’s charging for all these trips from London) informs her that she’s the residuary legatee in the original will – gets all the dosh if George dies first – so she tells Aubrey to go off to the river and drown, as George, then come back later as someone completely different, and then he can marry her, the rich widow.

You wouldn’t believe how difficult it is to get a stretch of river all to yourself for a quick spot of drowning, but they manage it in the end. Naturally, Sprules is devastated at losing his brother, and the plot is further thickened when another George Maitland turns up, this time Henery in disguise. He’s also very pleased to find he’s got an attractive wife along with the money, and doesn’t hesitate to take advantage of the situation. While he’s chasing Jean round the garden, another George Maitland arrives, this time the real one. With Aubrey reappearing, disguised as a monk, Brother Brown, the final act tests Louise’s wits to the limit. She finally decides that Aubrey will have to come back to life (he was so dazed by the explosion that supposedly carried him off the first time, that he’s been wandering round the area for weeks not knowing who or where he was), only for the much-travelled solicitor to inform them all that the estate, now realised, comes to the grand sum of one pound, a few shillings and some pence.  Still, at least Aubrey and Louise, and George and Jean have all been happily reunited, as have Sprules and Henery.

We’d seen this before at the National, over twenty years ago, and neither of us could remember it at all. This version left me with two impressions – that the humour was mainly in the performance, and that even with Alan  Ayckbourn’s updates for the National production, the piece was still pretty dated. The cast did good work, and we did enjoy ourselves, but either this production didn’t do the piece justice, or it had reached the historical curiosity stage. It’s surprising, given the current financial situation, that the play didn’t come across better, but that’s theatre for you.

© 2009 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

The Pitmen Painters – February 2009

8/10

By Lee Hall, inspired by a book by William Feaver

Directed by Max Roberts

Venue: Lyttelton Theatre

Date: Wednesday 11th February 2009

This was just as good as last time. Although there wasn’t any surprise value because we’d seen it before (May 2008), being more familiar with the characters and accents meant we got even more out of the humour, especially George’s fondness for the rule book. I love the way Oliver takes his time to reply to George when he turns up at the hut in the opening few minutes. Oliver comes in, George says “Oliver”, and Oliver walks over to the side, picks up a chair, takes it to the middle of the floor, opens it up, sits down, crosses his legs, and then pauses for a few seconds before responding “George”. Lovely stuff.

This time round, the interval happened after the group explains their experiences in London. In my previous notes, I remembered it as being after the life model turns up, but that’s quite early for a break, so perhaps I misremembered. I didn’t spot any big changes to the text, and I’ll have to check up on a couple of places where I thought the dialogue had been altered, but overall it was the same play we’d seen and loved so much last year, with the same cast and equally good performances. I found I was more aware of the artists and their development than the interaction with Robert Lyon this time round, and less keen on Helen Sutherland, though just as aware of the sexual underpinning of her passion for art and artists. The final scene didn’t feel so out of place today, what with renationalisation of the banks and possibly BT seeming increasingly possible; how things change, and how they stay the same!

This is definitely a classic play, and I hope we’ll get to see it again sometime.

© 2009 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

The Tragedy Of Thomas Hobbes – December 2008

5/10

By Adriano Shaplin

Directed by Elizabeth Freestone

Company: RSC

Venue: Wilton’s Music Hall

Date: Saturday 6th December 2008

Wilton’s Music Hall currently has the decorators in, so it looks worse than any other temporary home the RSC has used in London to my knowledge. The toilets were OK, though strapped for space, but everything else could do with improvement. I wasn’t impressed with the acoustics, the chairs were comfortable enough (given the state of many West End theatres, they were above average) but space was at a premium in every direction. We arrived later than we would have liked so had to sit in the balcony, and my neck is just about de-cricked from the excessive twisting it had to do. The ice creams in the interval were below average, and I won’t even go into the horrendous crowd that was the bar area.

So with all this affecting my sensitive nature, it’s no surprise it took me a wee while to get involved in today’s performance. Also, not being able to see some of the action was a drawback, though not so serious as not being able to make out the dialogue clearly. Hence the comment about the acoustics. The volume was fine, but I just couldn’t make out enough of the words to follow the early stages. However, things improved, especially when there weren’t half-a-dozen people talking at the same time on stage, and I started to get what was going on about the time that Robert Boyle (I thought it was Foyle from the way they said it) took Rotten into his service and they attended a demonstration of an experiment (sadly, the dog died).

Basically this play, commissioned by MIT, is about the beginnings of full-blooded scientific research practices, and the tussle between the experimental scientists and the natural philosophers, such as Thomas Hobbes. The arguments didn’t always come across clearly, but I gather that Hobbes (he wrote Leviathan, don’t ask me what it was about) was in favour of rational thinking and testing of hypotheses, but stopped short of actually getting his hands dirty by testing said hypotheses against physical reality. The new boys on the block, including Boyle, Robert Hooke, some others less well known, and eventually Isaac Newton, wanted to go all out with repeatable experiments that would verify or refute theories.  And all of this was played out against the backdrop of the Civil War and the restoration of the monarchy under Charles II. It’s a busy period, and with so much to be crammed into just under three hours, there wasn’t much opportunity for a nap, thank goodness.

The play makes good use of self-deprecating and self-referencing humour. At the start of the second half, Rotten and Black, former actors currently resting due to the interregnum, are seen rehearsing a piece by Hobbes, which is intended to counter the arguments of his opposition. Rotten and Black make some entertaining comments about how they can change the piece to make it more acceptable to the audience, and suggest Hobbes play himself, but in disguise.  When they interrupt a demonstration by the newly formed Royal Society, they’re dismayed to find the king is present, so they don’t get to finish their piece. A shame, as Angus Wright looked particularly fetching in a large bush of pubic hair and not much else. The play itself finishes with an extract from another play, The Virtuoso by Thomas Shadwell, which poked fun at the new scientists and especially Robert Hooke. Hooke was now under threat from the up and coming Newton, and found himself in a similar position to Hobbes, with his views being derided and fresh approaches being put forward.

It may be that that was what was intended by the title of this piece; that the tragedy wasn’t just that of Hobbes, but the tragedy of any scientist who failed to keep up-to-date with his thinking. Other than that, I can’t for the life of me see why the title was chosen, as Thomas Hobbes himself is around far less than Boyle, and isn’t a particularly appealing character in any case. It’s still a good play, and I’d like a chance to see it in better circumstances than today’s.

The set was about as rickety-looking as the theatre itself, though with health and safety rampant, I suspect the scaffolding and ladders were actually more robust than the building they were in. Actors accessed all levels – we had them pounding the floorboards behind us a few times, which could be distracting, if only because it let us know the scene was coming to an end – and even came up through a trapdoor, as well as using the space in front of the stage, the sides of the auditorium, etc. About the only thing they didn’t do was swing from the ceiling, but if Michael Boyd had his way….

The performances were all very good, and possibly excellent, given our unfortunate location. I especially liked Arsher Ali, first as John  Lilburne, giving us his “what about the workers” diatribe, and then as Charles II, exiled to France and then resplendent as the restored king. He had a soft spot for Hobbes, his old tutor, but not soft enough to overlook his misbehaviour, nor to ignore that he had fallen behind the times. Stephen Boxer as Hobbes also gave us a good performance, though as I’ve said, there didn’t seem to be enough of it. Robert Boyle was played by Amanda Hadingue, the only woman in the cast, which did rather emphasise the lack of female roles in this play, while Jack Laskey was excellent as Robert Hooke, growing from young enthusiastic scientist from a poor background to self-important self-appointed leader of the scientific establishment, finally ousted by the likes of Isaac Newton. We were also treated to two old men, called Statler and Waldorf, à la The Muppets, who commented on the developments on stage, and even joined in a bit. Overall, it was an interesting play, and deserves better than a short run in this small, out-of-the-way theatre, I hope it gets it.

© 2008 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

Table Manners – November 2008

8/10

By Alan Ayckbourn

Directed by Matthew Warchus

Venue: Old Vic Theatre

Date: Wednesday 26th November 2008

This is the middle play in the trilogy, in the sense that the overall action begins in the garden, the next earliest scene is in the dining room, while the sitting room kicks off last. It’s slightly darker in tone than the sitting room; this is where we get to see each character at their worst, and also where we get the revelations about each woman’s relationship with her man which make sense of Norman’s conquests. We do also get to hear the men’s side of things, too, and we can see for ourselves that Sarah and Ruth are no picnic, but as they’re the ones Norman is targeting, I reckon it’s natural to have a bit more sympathy for them. He certainly does.

He also gets a punch on the jaw during dinner, courtesy of man-mouse Tom, who finally stands up for Annie only to find that Norman was actually insulting his own wife Ruth. Tom’s apologetic “Oh, that’s rather different” got a huge laugh, while the punch itself got a smattering of applause.

The parts were better balanced this time, as Ruth turns up during the second scene, and I love the way Ayckbourn keeps giving us twist after twist. We were in the same seats as before, and the view was still pretty good, though I was nearly blinded by one of the spotlights which came on for several minutes while one of the characters was centre front, if there can be such a thing with theatre in the round. Fortunately it wasn’t on for long, but it was a real nuisance while it was.

The performances were all good again, and if I single out Amanda Root for special praise it’s only because her character, Sarah, has so much more to do in this play, and she handled the twists and turns, the gentle gradients and whiplash-inducing switchbacks with impeccable mastery. Even seeing her from the back, there were some wonderful expressions on her face! She went from cheerful and bubbly (or irritating, as her husband might call it), to worried, to censorious, to nervous, to hysterical, to unhappy, to hopeful but wary, to determined, to cheerful again, all in the space of two and a half hours and with a few other ports of call along the way. Wonderful.

The set was much simpler this time. Still the big jammy dodger effect, but the room itself had only a small storage unit for cutlery, etc., a fireplace, a low stool, and the long dining table with only four chairs, which was never going to be big enough to sit those people round it without open warfare. The entrance from the house was far left from where we sat, the door to garden was to our right. And it’s the garden scenes we’re looking forward to next.

© 2008 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

Audience – November 2008

6/10

By Vaclav Havel, translated by Carol Rocamora and Tomas Rychetsky

Directed by Geoffrey Beevers

Venue: Orange Tree Theatre

Date: Thursday 20th November 2008

The set was an office in a brewery. There was a table in the middle of the stage, surrounded by crates and metal barrels, and there were two chairs. The place looked rough – there was an old style radio (old even in the 70s) next to a barrel on our side of the table, and a small ball of twine sat on the barrel itself. To the far left, the door had the usual nude pictures, and a sign above the door said something like if you’re full of beer, you’re full of cheer.

The first of two plays, Audience concerned a meeting between Vanek and the foreman of the brewery he’s working in. When the lights go up, the foreman is snoozing, face down on his desk. When Vanek knocks, he wakes up and invites Vanek to come in and sit down, which he does, eventually. The foreman also offers him a glass of beer. Vanek is a reluctant drinker – we learn he prefers wine – but he does manage to drink a little. He also manages to get rid of a fair bit into the foreman’s glass when he’s away relieving himself. The foreman puts away more than enough for the both of them, though, as he keeps reaching into the crate beside him for another bottle. This became quite funny, and before long he had to disappear through the little door. Sounds of water in various forms, and then he’s back again, adjusting his flies and pulling down his apron. This became the major structural motif for this play.

Verbally, there was a cycle of repetition of what Vanek liked to drink, stories about the brewery, and warnings about Vanek’s relationship with another writer. Gradually, as the foreman became increasingly drunk, the pressure he was under to report on Vanek and his activities was revealed.

After too many beers, the foreman falls asleep, and Vanek puts him back in his chair, the way he was at the start, and leaves. We then get a reprise of the opening, with Vanek knocking on the door, the foreman waking up, etc. This time, Vanek seems more confident, and readily drinks the first glass of beer he’s offered – perhaps he’s learning? – and that’s where the play ends.

This was lovely little piece which showed us the effects of living under a repressive regime. The wariness about saying too much too openly, the recourse to alcohol to deaden the senses, the need for others to conform so as not to cause problems for those around them, all these came across very clearly as we went through another little repetitive dance. Along with the humour, and seeing just how human these people are to remind us that this can happen anywhere, this made for a very enjoyable opening play.

There was the usual post-show chat, but I find I’ve forgotten most of what was said. There was some confirmation of the way Havel and many other writers chose to use surrealism to mask anti-government writing – if they couldn’t understand it, they couldn’t ban it. I suspect that’s what makes some European drama inaccessible to me – you had to have been there. The amount of beer being drunk in the first play (Audience) was commented on; apparently the timing of each bottle and glass was tricky, but turned out to be crucial to the scene. I do remember there were some long anecdotes by people who had been to Czechoslovakia which seemed to have very little to add to the experience of the discussion, at least not as much as the actual Czech folk who contributed to the earlier talks, so perhaps that’s why I don’t have a lot more to say here.

© 2008 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

Bouncers – November 2008

10/10

By John Godber

Directed by Keith Hukin

Reform Theatre Company

Mill Studio

Friday 14th November 2008

Excellent play, excellent performances, and only inches from where we were sitting most of the time. This was great fun.

The four actors play three different groups; the bouncers at a Sheffield disco in the eighties, a group of four women celebrating one of their number’s 21st birthday, and four men on the pull. It’s a compilation of all the sorts of things that happen on a Friday night in the pulsating heart of a big city, or something like that.

The bouncers were all in suits, and hardly moved an unnecessary muscle. They were well hard. Their dialogue took a long time coming, but we gradually learn that Lucky Eric, head bouncer, is having difficulty coping with his wife leaving him, especially as she flaunts her stuff down at his disco, trying to get a new man. He’s also having trouble with Judd, another bouncer, who clearly feels he should be top dog. The others are OK with Eric, but the tension still builds through the evening.

The girls were wonderful. No costume changes here, just a few props – handbags and the like – and we’re in a different world. With all the doubling, there were a few jokes based on thinking one actor was playing somebody else, but there was no confusion for the audience. They nailed us women good.

The blokes were also shown in all their unattractiveness. A scene in the gents, with all four pissing in a line, was a real treat, and hilariously funny, running through just about all the urinal jokes you could wish for. With a bit of careful switching, a couple of the lads nearly got off with a couple of the girls, but nothing much came of it, despite the bouncers commenting about the after effects of a Friday night – “Durex lay like dead Smurfs” – great line.

One recurring motif was Lucky Eric’s speeches. These were introduced very dramatically by the other bouncers, as Eric’s first speech, second speech, etc. There was a bit of over-enthusiasm from the audience by the time we got to the fourth (and final) speech, which they handled very well, and it all added to the fun. Eric was joined by the others in a rendition of an Elvis Presley number (I’ve completely forgotten which one), which was lovely. In fact, the whole performance was perfect in every way, and showed what great talent these four chaps have. There was loads of humour, and every scene worked really well. I especially liked the changes from one group of characters to another. A brilliant evening, and a play I’ll be very happy to see again.

© 2008 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

Private View – November 2008

6/10

By Vaclav Havel, translated by Carol Rocamora and Tomas Rychetsky

Directed by Sam Walters

Orange Tree Theatre

Thursday 13th November 2008

This play was part of a double bill, and came after, and was much funnier than, Protest. This was a view of those people who bought into Western materialism, Czech style, in the 70s.

A couple, dressed like 70s hippies, welcome Vanek to their flat for a ‘private view’. The husband, Michael, has gone to a lot of trouble to do it up to their exacting standards, everything except feng shui from the sounds of it, and they want their best friend to see the results before everyone else. His wife, Vera, is very supportive of her husband, and even found the scimitar proudly displayed on the wall to our left, which was just what Michael had wanted. They ply Vanek with drink, and in between showing off various items they’ve bought and boasting about their amazing young son (precocious enough to ask, do frogs drown?), they attempt to do a makeover on Vanek and his wife’s lifestyle, despite his protestations that he and his wife are fine as they are. Michael and Vera even go so far as to assume Vanek will want to watch them making love, as they’re so good at it and he obviously needs some tips.

These are the friends from hell, and there’s some lovely repetition that goes on with the husband asking if he’d like some music, the wife offering some unpronounceable (and probably unpalatable) snack, and then the clock doing its weird musical thing, which both Michael and Vera ignore, but Vanek reacts to. This cycle, interspersed with increasingly desperate attempts by the couple to make Vanek’s life better, gradually build up to a point where Vanek has to tell them to lay off, at which point Vera goes ape-shit, throws his flowers back at him, and tells him to get out if he doesn’t want to be there. He has to make a choice now, and although I would probably have decided differently, he opts for peace at all costs, picks up the flowers (he’s right beside us at this point), puts them back in the vase, and sits down to enjoy some more of their company. With his acquiescence, they’re back to being charming again, and so it goes on, though mercifully we’re spared the sequel by the lights going out.

It was a more interesting and enjoyable play than this description gets across. I liked that another actor was playing the Vanek character this time, indicating that he is an everyman type. The performances were all excellent, which brought out the very dry humour. I suspect I didn’t get all of it, but I still found it good fun, and again I notice that a group of pieces has been arranged to end with the funny one (cf Glaspell Shorts).

During the interval, the set was completely transformed. Using the same basic items, we ended up with one of the black leather chairs in front of us, the large chest to the left of it with a gramophone, the other black chair in the corner, and the drinks trolley along from that. Opposite us was the table, sporting two candlesticks and a small vase, and flanked by two upright chairs. In the middle, on the diagonal, was a big crazy-paved oblong fire pit, with a bear-skin rug this side of it. Four special items hung from the centre of each balcony; an icon in a niche, an icon painting, a clock, which played an unusual tune at odd moments, and a scimitar.

The post-show brought out some interesting points. Apparently Vanek was used by other writers once Havel had created him, so he has a bigger life than just these plays. Since he had such a big cast for the whole season, Sam Walters decided to cast three different Vaneks, and the general feeling on this seemed to be positive.

The moral dilemmas of the first play were discussed in some depth, and covered all of the points I had thought of and a few more. We were asked whether we thought Stanek should have signed the petition or not. I voted for, but wasn’t entirely happy with that; I didn’t think he “should” have, though it might have been the more courageous thing to do. Either way, the complexities of the situation came across even more, and I can only respect those who went through such times, regardless of their choices.

The second play was also appreciated, but there was less to say about it. The choice Vanek makes at the end was commented on; apparently that’s the choice many Czech people would make to keep the peace with friends. One other point from the first play – Vanek removes his shoes, and that’s a point of etiquette to remember if I’m ever in the Czech republic (and a number of other European countries as well, apparently). Although hosts will tell their guests they don’t have to take their shoes off, DO NOT BELIEVE THEM. It’s a huge social gaffe to keep shoes on in someone’s house, and they won’t be your friends if you do.

© 2008 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

A Midsummer Night’s Dream – November 2008

10/10

By William Shakespeare

Directed by Greg Doran

Courtyard Theatre

Friday 7th November 2008

Just brief notes tonight. Again, Joe Dixon has calmed down a bit, and it’s a better performance as a result. I noticed the fairies more from this angle, and the way they were using the dolls. I considered the dolls to be the way the fairies appear to the humans. There was way too much smoke during Oberon’s first ‘appearance’ – we could hardly see him for the fog – so he didn’t really ‘appear’ until it cleared a bit, which was a waste of a good entrance. Everything else was as before, but better balanced and just as enjoyable.

© 2008 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

Love’s Labour’s Lost – November 2008

9/10

By William Shakespeare

Directed by Gregory Doran

Courtyard Theatre

Wednesday 5th November 2008

There were some physical problems for me tonight. I had a small coughing fit this afternoon, similar to last year’s ones, and it seemed like it might start up again tonight, but I managed to control it, keep the coughs to between scenes, and drank lots of water to help things. Unfortunately, drinking lots of water has an inevitable consequence, and so I had to leave after the French ladies head off to hunt the deer, and just as Holofernes and Sir Nathaniel are arriving. I was let back in during that scene, so I didn’t miss too much, and if anything I had a better seat, round the other side. I was able to enjoy the rest of the play up to the interval and then rejoin Steve; hooray for the helpfulness of the RSC staff. I managed the second half without too much coughing, though I did have to pay another visit once the play finished, so my mind wasn’t fully on the performance. I did enjoy it, but I did take longer to get involved as I wasn’t seeing as much of the action in the opening scene as I would have liked (and probably sulking as a result). I saw some things better though, such as the way the lovers, apart from Berowne and Rosaline, were looking in each others’ eyes during the final song.

All the performances have come on since our first viewing, with a lot more detail everywhere. Don Armado was not quite so over the top, more controlled, and funnier. The men seemed to be less “silly” but still fun, the girls were more giggly, but still more mature than the boys. I forgot to mention last time about Berowne throwing his hat at the tree in the first scene – still haven’t seen him make it. [According to Edward Bennett, he’s managed it twice, and completely corpsed when he did.] He chatted up a woman on other side of the stage tonight. I was also reminded that the Mummers come on at the start of the second half, and a bear comes on with the Russians, but goes off in disgust when the women won’t pay him any attention. So, apart from a few distractions and some restrictions to our viewing, it was another excellent performance.

© 2008 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me